


the universe expanding

by gaywoodandbine



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Universe, M/M, my deepest apologies to emts if i got your job completely wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 03:32:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17541875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaywoodandbine/pseuds/gaywoodandbine
Summary: Across worlds and time and infinite universes, they find each other over and over again.It starts like this.





	the universe expanding

**Author's Note:**

> a shameless excuse for me to write some of the dozen au ideas floating around in my head.

It starts like this.

The call comes in through dispatch just after midnight, a two-car vehicle collision on an icy road just off the freeway. It’s no surprise. The weather is a mess tonight, a mix of freezing rain and snow and then back again since sundown. What’s more surprising is the fact that there haven’t been more accidents. 

It’s a tense drive, balancing between getting on scene as quickly as they can and making sure they don’t wind up in a ditch themselves. 

When they finally pull up, Alec can see one of the vehicles, the front-end crushed in. There are two other cars parked by the side of the road, emergency blinkers on and flashing. They stand huddled together with their cell phones out. They’re probably the ones who called for help. Maia and Clary jump out of the second ambulance that had followed them out, racing for the vehicle.

It’s dark, no streetlights in this area, and it takes a moment for Alec to spot the tire tracks in the snow and mud, digging deep troughs into the wet ground beneath as the car must have been sent down over the embankment. 

Hopping out of the truck, he heads for the back with Jace. There’s no way they’re going to get the full stretcher down there, and instead, he grabs for the back board and brace. Together they head for the edge of the road, footsteps careful in the slush and ice. Alec’s stomach drops at the sight of the SUV. The front is totaled, driver’s side door hanging half open. At the very least, that makes getting the injured out a lot easier, but a head on collision in this weather makes him worry over what they’re going to find down there. 

Sliding a bit down the incline, he reaches the car and immediately sees that it’s a bit more complicated than he’d thought. The front end of the car is pushed in so far that the steering wheel dropped, pinning the driver’s legs to the seat. He hears the crunch of footsteps in the snow behind him and then Jace’s cursing.

With a bit of an internal groan of his own, Alec grabs at the side of the door, pulling hard to yank it open wider. The sound of metal scraping and grinding jolts the driver, a young man with dark hair who had appeared to be passed out a moment before. It seems to take a second to reorient himself, and then he immediately begins to panic, struggling against the steering wheel.

“Hey, hey, hey! Easy, easy, don’t move!”

The struggling stops, but the man’s half a second from hyperventilating. There’s blood running sluggish down the side of his face, a wound hidden somewhere underneath it around his hairline, eyes dazed but wide and scared. All Alec can think to do is keep talking.

“What’s your name?”

It takes a second for him to answer. Alec has to wonder if it’s because of the head injury or if he’s just confused as to why Alec’s asking. A beat later, he finally says, “Magnus.”

Alec nods, smiling a bit, “Magnus. That’s a nice name. I like it. I’m Alec. Blondie right here is my brother, Jace.”

Jace drops the bag from his shoulder as he raises a hand in a little wave, radiating calm and smiling easy and cheerful like today’s just any other Sunday. It kind of is for them.

“Hey Magnus.”

There are more sirens in the distance, flashing blue lights illuminating the dark trees just beyond as police and the fire department arrive on scene, and Alec steps in closer to the car, assessing as much damage as he can take in. Magnus’s breathing has at least calmed a little bit, and Alec brings his flashlight up to check his eyes, relieved to see that his pupils are still reactive. 

“Listen, Magnus. We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? But I need you to do two things for me.”

It takes another second for Magnus to focus on him, but when he does, he gives him a bit of a wan smile and says, “Anything for you, handsome.”

The remark surprises a bark of laughter out of him.

“If you can flirt at a time like this, I’m gonna take it as a good sign. Look, we’re gonna have to cut you out of there, alright?”

The smile disappears from Magnus’s face, tension and fear replacing it again even as he nods, and Alec is sorry to see it go. Magnus seems to be forcing himself to keep his breathing steady, deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth.

“I need you to stay as still as you can, though. We don’t know yet what kind of injuries you have, and I need you to keep as calm as you can and don’t move. Can you do that, Magnus?”

Magnus swallows hard and nods again. Alec looks behind him, seeing a couple firefighters making their way down the bank with jaws of life. 

Magnus’s voice is shaky when he speaks, drawing Alec’s attention back to him.

“I’m scared.”

Alec’s heart breaks a little. He reaches for Magnus’s hand, giving it a small squeeze. Before he can draw away, Magnus clings back, and Alec’s determined not to let go.

“You’re gonna be okay, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”

It starts like this. 

Clubs are not Alec’s Thing. Izzy would argue that nothing is Alec’s thing, and that he is, in fact, an eighty-year-old man trapped in a twenty-eight-year-old body.

He likes going out, but he’s more of a dive bar and pool table kind of guy than techno music and hundreds of close-packed writhing bodies. It’s the day before Izzy’s graduation, though, and she gets to choose the celebration venue. Of course, it’d be the newly opened Pandemonium. 

While Jace and Izzy and Clary have all swept onto the dance floor, Alec parks himself at the bar, ordering a drink. Sweeping his eyes over the crowd, he finds himself drawn to a young man almost in the center. The darkness and multicolored flashing lights of the club make it hard to see, but he’s pretty. Dark hair and a shirt that’s unbuttoned almost to his naval. He’s draped in necklaces with a woman dancing in front of him, fingers tangled in the chains. Behind him is another man, pressed so close to his back it’s almost hard to tell who’s who. 

Alec can’t take his eyes off of him. Doesn’t really want to. And he watches as he lets his head fall back onto the man’s shoulder, hips shifting to the music in a way that makes Alec’s mouth go a little dry. He lingers a bit on the long line of his throat before looking at his face again, only for their eyes to meet. 

They watch each other, for how long Alec doesn’t know. It could be ten seconds or a full minute. Eventually, though, he forces himself to look away. A drink rests at his elbow, and he busies himself with it.

Five minutes later and Izzy has bounced herself back to his side, laughter and sweat bright on her face. She orders a drink before turning to Alec to shove him in the shoulder. 

“Are you gonna stay glued to the bar all night?”

Alec winces, “Iz – you know, this isn’t –”

“Your thing, yeah, I get it. But I want you to have _fun_ , hermano. You remember what fun is, right? You’re so busy with work all the time. I just want you to relax for a little. Is that so hard to do?” 

Alec sighs and gives her a smile, “Yeah alright. I’ll meet you out there. I just – need a few more of these.”

He lifts his drink, clinking the glass against Izzy’s in a mock toast. She rolls her eyes, opening her mouth to say something, but before she can, there’s a flash of red hair and Clary’s at her side. 

“C’mon, Dr. Lightwood. You still owe me a dance.”

“I’m not a doctor yet,” Izzy laughs, wrapping her arm around Clary’s waist, but she allows Clary to pull her away from the bar and back out into the crowd.

Alec grins, watching the two of them disappear before turning back to his drink.

“Hey, Pretty Boy.”

Alec turns to find the man he’d locked eyes with earlier standing just behind him. He’s even more beautiful up close, black hair falling softly over his forehead, eyes rimmed with gold liner. There’s a flirtatious smile on his lips, shoulders swaying back and forth as he gives Alec an expectant look. 

“Well, are you gonna come dance with me or just stare all night? I’m not opposed to putting on a show, but I really prefer a hands-on approach.”

Alec panics, reaching for his drink and downing the rest of it in one go. The man’s eyes follow the empty glass, eyebrows raised in surprise just as Alec says, “I’m not really much of a dancer.”

Plucking the empty glass out of Alec’s grasp and setting it on the bar, the man takes his hand in both of his, walking backwards into the crowded dance floor with a grace and confidence that’s, honestly, kind of a turn on. If Alec tried that, he’s pretty sure he’d either trip over his feet or run into every person on the way there. 

“Nonsense,” he says, and it takes Alec a minute to remember what they’d been talking about, “It’s not that difficult.”

They reach the middle of the floor, somehow managing not to step on anyone or knock anyone over. The man steps in close, placing Alec’s hand on his waist before reaching for the other and doing the same. 

“I’m Magnus, by the way.”

This could end in disaster and bruised toes, but Alec had told Izzy he’d let himself have fun tonight. He tightens his hold on Magnus’s waist.

“Alec.”

It starts like this.

Swanky high society events are Alec’s least favorite. He grew up around these sorts of functions, but he never really managed to feel comfortable. The tux he’s wearing isn’t helping matters. It’s too tight, no matter how many times Aline assured him it felt that way because it was tailored. The bow tie feels like it’s choking him, and the shoes aren’t nearly broken in enough. 

“Would you stop fidgeting, Alec? Mr. Cartwright, heir to a multibillion-dollar oil company, would not be fidgeting in a tuxedo. Own it.”

Jace’s voice sounds off in his ear, and Alec immediately straightens, rolling his shoulders out as he forces himself not to adjust the earpiece. Alec can do undercover. He’s good at it, but this is a lot.

“Agent Lightwood. Or is it Mr. Cartwright, tonight?”

A smooth honeyed voice cuts through the background hum of rich people mingling. Alec would know that voice anywhere. 

“Shit,” Jace curses in his ear, “Is that who I think it is?”

Alec turns around without answering him.

“Bane.”

Magnus Bane smiles, a martini held delicately in his left hand. He’s as beautiful as ever, the same mischief in his eyes as the last time Alec was standing this close to him. He’s dressed elegantly, but the difference between Magnus Bane and Alec is that he looks like he belongs here.

“Actually, it’s Mr. Holden. I have to say, Alexander. You clean up beautifully. Nice to see you out of those drab FBI suits.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Same as you. Enjoying some precious art, good food, and fabulous company. Although I’m lacking in your entourage. Hello, Herondale. Say hi to Biscuit for me, will you?” 

There’s reluctant laughter through the earpiece and Jace mutters, “Cocky son of a bitch.”

Magnus takes a step closer, and Alec goes tense, allowing Magnus to reach up with his free hand to adjust the collar of his jacket. He leans in, and it’s a fight not to meet him. 

“It’s a party, not a funeral, Alexander. Loosen up a little. You’re so uncomfortable it screams fed.”

Magnus’s warm, brown eyes dart a look over Alec’s right shoulder before focusing on Alec again, and Alec will deny until the moon crumbles in the sky that his heart skips a beat. 

“What do you think you’re doing, Bane?”

“Giving my favorite agent a helping hand. Consider it a birthday present.”

His lips brush against Alec’s cheek, and a breath later, Magnus is taking a step back with a sweet, “Happy birthday, Alexander.”

Alec loses sight of him as another man steps in front of him, a hand extended, “Mr. Cartwright, yes? I’ve heard a lot about you. Any man Nico Holden puts his trust in is a man I’d like to get to know.”

Lorenzo Rey. The man he and his team have been trying to take down for three months. The man they were here specifically for, and he’s shaking Alec’s hand because of Magnus.

“Stop being so goddamn charmed by him, Alec. You realize this is a set up. While we’re busy here, he’s going to be off doing fuck knows what in a building full of priceless art,” Jace huffs in his ear. 

Alec knows that. He knew it the second Magnus stepped in close with a kiss to his cheek and a whispered happy birthday. He still can’t help his laughter, using it to present a friendly face to Rey as he shakes his hand and says, “Yes, well. Nico and I go way back.”

It starts like this.

It starts like this.

It starts like this.

Alec sees them as they are in dozens of different ways, a Shadowhunter and a warlock together against the odds. 

Once, Alec can feel the surge of magic in his blood, watches red flames catch along his fingertips and curl around his wrists. He sees Magnus with stark black runes burned into his skin, a Seraph blade at his thigh. It’s jarring, and Alec can’t decide if he likes it or not. 

Magnus is a lost prince, Alec the assassin sent to end his young life before he can reclaim his throne and save his kingdom. He is Hades reincarnated, doomed to remember every life he’s ever lived. Magnus, his Persephone, never recognizes him, and in every new cycle, they start again.

More often than not, they are both mundane, living ordinary lives that only make a mark on their own small corner of the world. Alec is a doctor, a lawyer, a detective, the owner of a small bookstore and café. Magnus is a biochemist, an engineer, a fashion designer, a journalist. 

Underneath their careers, they are still Magnus and Alec. Across worlds and time and infinite universes, they find each other over and over again.

The rough caw of a crow sounds in his ear, and he can almost feel the weight of it on his shoulder, feel the claws digging into his skin. He jerks out of the vision with a sharp gasp. There’s a headache building between his eyes, the weight of a thousand lifetimes, a million memories making his overtired brain hurt. 

“What is this? Why would you show me this?” he croaks, his voice nearly as rough as the crow he’d heard. 

The angel in front of him is still almost too bright to look at directly, but he can see the curious tilt of his head as he regards him with an almost pitying expression. 

“So, you will understand what is at stake, Alexander Lightwood.”

Anger twists in his gut. As if he doesn’t know. As if the angels would deign to set foot on earth to explain to him like he’s some toddling child. Alec’s entire world has been dragged to what amounts to the seventh circle of hell. He doesn’t need these winged bastards to tell him he needs to bring Magnus back. 

The angel smiles, and there is a touch of condescension to it that makes Alec think he’s been heard regardless of never saying a word.

“You and your love are a universal constant, Alexander. Whether you realize it or not, you change the world around you for the better, no matter who you are or where. That is not something to be touched. Nor to be left to chance.”

“What is your point?”

“My point, stubborn Nephilim, is that his soul waits for you. You will retrieve it. Because Heaven wills it so.”

Alec stares. Hope unfurls in his chest, pushing against his ribcage so hard he feels like they might crack, but anger still drags at the edges, fury that this help only comes now at the eleventh hour. 

“Why?” he demands, “Why now? Why help me? Why couldn’t you have stopped this before it happened?”

The angel doesn’t answer.

Between one blink and the next, Alec finds himself in the loft, stretched out on the couch as if he’s only just fallen asleep there. He doesn’t remember getting there. There’s pounding at the door, and he sits up, his headache flaring up until it matches the knocks. 

“Alec! Alec, open up!” 

It’s Clary. Wondering if what he’d seen had all been a dream, he shoves off the couch, heading for the door. 

It’s not only Clary standing on the other side. Izzy, Jace, and Simon are right behind her. She has a determined smile on her face, standing firm in all of her diminutive height.

“I can get us to Edom.”

**Author's Note:**

> tell me if you caught some of the white collar references. ;)
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://gaywoodandbine.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/gaywoodandbine) if you like to scream into the void about shadowhunters and malec.


End file.
